


PokéWizards

by klmqr6



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-27
Updated: 2015-02-27
Packaged: 2018-03-15 10:32:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 11,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3443885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/klmqr6/pseuds/klmqr6
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The year is 2000. It's the dawn of a new generation. The damages from the Battle of Hogwarts are finally all cleaned up.</p><p>And the first years have organized an underground Pokémon league.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> So yeah. This is a thing. I made it with my brain. A huge thanks to my dearest of bros, jessicaciao for the constant support and grammar checks and slew of commas she added to make this the thing you are reading.

It started, as things do, at breakfast. A pre-Quidditch breakfast on a Saturday just after everyone came back from Christmas holiday. A Hufflepuff girl sat quietly at her spot, plate shoved aside to make space for her to lay out some cards.

 

"Oh my gosh, are those Pokemon cards?" asked a Ravenclaw boy, leaning excitedly over the table to look at them.

 

"...yes?" she answered, wary of getting made fun of.

 

"You wanna battle?" he asked. "I'll have to go up to my common room to get my deck. Don't move!" he shouted as he runs towards the door of the Great Hall.

 

"Okay?" She turned her attention back to her deck, shuffling them together nervously.

 

When the Ravenclaw boy returned, he shoved aside more plates to make room. "I'm David. Ravenclaw First Year."

 

"Callisto. Hufflepuff First Year. You sure you want to battle now? The Quidditch game..."

 

"Ugh, Quidditch is boring. At the skill level we have here, the whole thing is determined by which Seeker happens to spot the Snitch first. This, though," he gestured at their decks. "This is fun." David pushed his deck forward for her to cut, and Callisto did the same for her deck. And then the battle was on.

 

Despite not being a terribly involved game for spectators, the pair soon gathered a group of fellow First Years, mostly friends and other Muggleborns who were familiar with the game. A second match broke out next to them when a Hufflepuff and Slytherin challenged each other. No one went to the Quidditch game, after all.

 


	2. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things go underground. Rules are questioned. And friends are made.

The Saturday morning matches in the Great Hall continued for a few weeks before they started getting attention from older students and professors. There was an immediate, unspoken agreement from the First Years to not let them into it. Older students had too much inter-house resentment, even after the War, and none of the battlers wanted that tainting their friendly matches. So, the matches stopped, at least from the views of outsiders.

 

If you knew what to look for, there was a flourishing community.Now, students whispering in the backs of their classes were arguing out card trades ("I don't care what you pair it with, I don't want that Magikarp, what's wrong with you?")  There were quiet, furtive matches happening in the corners of the library and the back of History of Magic ("Merlin's beard, I can't believe Philomena has gotten so good, she only started playing a couple weeks ago.")

 

It was generally agreed upon that this was no way to battle, though. The First Years missed their leisurely matches. It was hard to focus when you had to be ready to hide everything at a moment’s notice. More than a few exciting matches had been ruined by the unfortunate appearance of Madame Pince, and their status as First Years meant they had the strictest of curfews and couldn't sneak out of the Common Rooms at night to play.

 

"It's an injustice, is what it is," whispered Fatima ferociously to her seat mate in Potions. Slughorn was across the room keeping an eye on Thomas, a Ravenclaw who tended to explored the limits of their potions. "We should just go back to playing on Saturdays and ignore how they feel about it!"

 

"That's a horrible idea, Fatima. Most of the most dedicated players are Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs. They'll never be up for it," Marcus, her seatmate and fellow Gryffindor chided her, stirring their potion. "The matches are running their course, anyway. No one’s interested in them anymore. Now add the nettles." Fatima dropped the nettles into their cauldron, sulking.

 

She was still sulking as she walked down the hall to lunch in the Great Hall. She was so focused on sulking she didn't notice she had company until they'd climbed out of the dungeons: David Stephens, from Ravenclaw, was walking beside her. "Er..."

 

"Oh, good. You noticed me. You weren't wrong about the Pokemon matches. But then, neither was Proudfoot."

 

"Er..." She blinked.

 

"Sorry, I know it's rude to eavesdrop. Or at least, that's what my mum keeps trying to tell me." He shrugged. "We should start playing again. But Proudfoot was right; the Great Hall is not the place to do it."

 

Fatima gave an outraged huff. "I suppose you'll also say he was right about no one being really interested anymore."

 

"Well..." Stephens steered them off to the side of the hallway. "He's not completely wrong. But he's not wrong because of the wrong reasons."

 

"...eh?" Fatima shook her head. "Can you speak Gryffindor?" Her companion frowned, clearly thinking. "Or Hufflepuff. That also works."

 

He sighed. "Let me put it this way. Who played in the last match you heard about?"

 

"Harriet Pulless and Jeffreys from Slytherin."

 

"And where was it played?"

 

"Back of History of Magic."

 

"And who won?"

 

"Harriet, of course. She's spent months building her deck. And I don't think Jeffreys had played before."

 

"And there's your problem!" He grinned at her.

 

"...huh? Try again, Stephens."

 

Stephens frowned at her again. "The reason people are losing interest is because the matches aren't interesting. You've got knowledgeable players like Pulless going up against people that just got their decks. Everyone knows who's going to win the scratch games in the back of History of Magic. They've all been played out a thousand times, or they aren't a challenge at all."

 

"So...they're bored?"

 

"Exactly! The matches are boring. As boring as Quidditch."

 

Fatima scowled. "Quidditch isn't boring. And that doesn't explain how I'm right."

 

"You're right that we need to start the organized matches up again. Jones in Hufflepuff let me borrow her book on the games, and it was amazing. Did you know there's something called the Elite Four, and they're--"

 

Fatima interrupted him. "Look, Stephens. Clearly you're excited, but it's lunchtime. Can you tell me after?"

 

"I've got Charms after. And then Defense Against the Dark Arts. But maybe after classes?" Stephens looked hopeful.

 

Fatima shifted. "No, I've got a...thing."

 

Stephens' face dropped. "Well, maybe later?" Fatima nodded vaguely, and they started back down the hall.

 

Right as they were in the doorway to the Great Hall, she smacked her forehead. "Stephens, I'm so dumb! You can tell me at lunch."

 

"We're in different houses, though!" Stephens protested.

 

"So? I'll come sit at the Ravenclaw table." Fatima cheerfully set off, Stephens spluttering in her wake.

 

"You- you can't just...tablehop like that. There are probably rules against that!" he hissed at her, trying to drag her back.

 

"That is the dumbest rule I've ever heard of. That's so dumb that it can't possibly be a rule. Now sit down and tell me about these Illegal Fourteen." Fatima was betting the name change would outrage Stephens enough to distract him.

 

"Illegal Fourteen?!" She was right. Stephens plopped down in his seat and glared at her. "I know exactly what you're doing, al-Pachachi. I'm just allowing it to happen." He then spent the rest of lunch outlining the gym structure from the Pokemon games. Despite herself, Fatima learned a lot. He was wrapping it up as she finished the last of her lunch. "So that's what the matches need: a tournament. Real challenges. Not these scratch games," he concluded, gulping down some pumpkin juice.

 

Fatima grimaced; she'd yet to get used to the taste. "That's all well and good, Stephens. But we don't have a place to hold the tournament. That's why the scratch games started in the first place; everyone was too scared to play in the open. If we just started playing again on Saturdays, we could hold the tournaments."

 

"I dunno..." Stephens trailed off. Fatima spotted one of the Gryffindor prefects over his shoulder; he was frowning at her.

 

"Look, thanks for the info. We'll figure something out. You're a Ravenclaw, for Merlin's sake! I've got to get going, though. Matthews is giving me a Look; I'm thinking there may actually be a stupid tablehopping rule." Stephens twisted to look. "Yeah, real subtle there, Stephens."

 

He twisted back around and rolled his eyes at her. "Whatever. And call me David, yeah? I just spent almost an hour lecturing you on the Pokemon gym system. Pretty sure you've earned it. Plus, I was already calling you Fatima."

 

"Only because everyone's afraid they'll get my name wrong. You did a good job with it, though." Fatima slung her bag across her shoulders "I've got to get to Transfiguration. Was McGonagall in a good mood this morning?"

 

"Yeah, but that was hours ago. And I'm pretty sure she had Sixth Year Gryffindors after us."

  
"Ugh, she's gonna be in a bad mood, then. Thanks for the heads up, David," she grinned and headed off to rejoin her fellow Gryffindors, carefully avoiding the glaring Prefect and passing on the warning of McGonagall's bad mood.


	3. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let Ravenclaws be Ravenclaws.

David was barely able to focus on his lessons; his mind kept wandering back to worry at his conversation with Fatima. After getting out of Defense Against the Dark Arts, he let his mind free, trusting his feet to keep him safe. As he stared out a window high up in the castle, considering how matchups could be most efficiently planned out--should they separate tournaments by House?--someone called his name.

 

“David? You alright there, buddy?” His line of sight was interrupted by a heavily freckled face. He startled backwards.

 

“Merlin, Rowan! Don’t sneak up on me like that,” David gasped, shoving his fellow Ravenclaw.

 

Rowan swayed and grinned at him. “Sneaking? Who’s sneaking? I called your name like five times. I thought you might be stuck on the password for the day.”

 

“What?” David looked around and realized he was standing outside the entrance to Ravenclaw tower. The eagle knocker was glaring at him. “Oh, sorry. Lost in thought.”

 

“Clearly. You’ve got to stop wandering around without paying attention. Hogwarts isn’t exactly safe, man. What’s got you in a tizzy today? A particularly difficult cryptogram in the Times?”

 

“Har har har. Nothing like that. Mr. Eagle, apologies for ignoring you. What’s the riddle for the day?”

 

The eagle glared for a half second more, and then opened its beak and asked, “What undertaking has seen the most deaths of friendships?”

 

Rowan frowned, considering, but David answered straight off, “Monopoly. My sister and I have never played a game without the board getting hexed across the room.”

 

The eagle paused, and then inclined its bronze head. “A unique answer indeed,” and then the door was swinging open.

 

“What answer did you guys give?” called Pippa from where she was laying in a pool of sunlight, reading.

 

“David said Monopoly. I was thinking maybe Mario Kart?” Rowan answered. “He was really good at it, considering he was just standing around staring till I got there.”

 

“Proper Muggle answers from you two. I said the Battle of Hogwarts; don’t think the door wanted to let me in, but it was true.” Pippa looked ridiculously proud of her morbid logic. “David was out there when I came up too, but I just left him. The cryptogram in the Times today must have been a doozy.”

 

David huffed angrily. “One time. It was one time. Let it go. And it’s not the cryptogram.” He pulled a cushion from one of the couches and plopped down next to Pippa. Rowan sprawled out next to them and began casting a few lazy charms through the sunbeams. After a bit, he tucked away his wand and pulled out his Transfiguration homework. David was dozing off to the white noise of Ravenclaw Tower when Pippa tapped his nose.

 

“What had you so distracted if not the cryptogram?”

 

“What? Oh, I was talking to Fatima earlier--”

 

“We noticed. She tablehopped! Is that allowed?” Rowan asked.

 

“I’m really not sure. But anyway--”

 

“But why did she sit with you? I didn’t know you guys knew each other,” Rowan interrupted again.

 

“As I was trying to explain, she sat with me because I wanted to tell her about the gym structure in Pokemon.”

 

Pippa groaned. “Not Pokemon again! I just don’t get it! Nothing happens! Why can’t you just play Exploding Snap like a normal wizard?”

 

David ignored her. Pippa was just jealous because she’d lost the only match she’d played. “And she was saying that the matches need to start back up--like they were after Winter hols. Course, I told her that wasn’t possible.”

 

“A shame and a waste. There’s real talent floating around the school,” Rowan mumbled. “Did I spell ‘persnickety’ right?”

 

“Forgive me for asking again, but why did you stop the Saturday tournaments?” Pippa raised her eyebrows at David.

 

“Because everyone’s opinion was the same as yours, but a lot more judgmental. It’s ‘ck’ right?” Rowan answered.

 

Pippa squinted at his parchment. “Merlin, you spelled it right. Why are you using ‘persnickety’ in your Transfiguration essay?” Rowan opened his mouth, but Pippa held up a hand. “Never mind, I don’t actually want to know. David, continue.”

 

“Well, I was trying to think of a way to hold some sort of tournament. But it’ll be for naught if we have to stop because everyone starts giving us those sideways looks again. Which they will. I guess it’s just a mental exercise?”

 

Pippa leaned in. "Well, talk me through what you have so far." David scooted back a bit, and Pippa rolled her eyes. "I love mental exercises, dummy. And, if you'll remember, I'm the one who unstuck you from the cryptogram," she added with a smug smile.

 

"She's got a point, David," Rowan yawned from over his essay. "If you don't let her in, she'll nag at you till you do."

 

"But if I do let her in, she'll bulldoze over everything I've done."

 

"I am right here, guys. Right. Here." Pippa thumped the floor with her fists.

 

"Fine, fine. Calm down, Hulk." Rowan burst into peals of laughter, overriding Pippa's outraged shrieks. David waited until Pippa had jabbed Rowan in the ribs and David's groans had faded. "Anyway. I was thinking of splitting tournaments up by House and--" Pippa opened her mouth and then closed it. "What?"

 

"I'm waiting till the end."

 

"Um...okay. I..." David shifted, now more aware of Pippa's attention. "I was thinking of setting up some sort of gym system and the Elite Four. I'm not really sure how though."

 

Pippa started chewing on a lock of hair. "Hmm... Well. A few thoughts right off the bat. One: don't limit the tournament to a House. That's idiotic."

 

David felt his face go hot. "Is idiotic really the word?"

 

"Of course it is," said Pippa. Rowan tapped her foot with his wand. "Huh?" Rowan nudged his head towards David's red face. She pursed her lips.

 

Rowan sighed. "Not idiotic. But if you keep it in-House, it doesn't change anything. It stays boring. Interest dies. Annnnd you’re back to square one.” There was a moment of quiet between the three, Rowan’s quill scratching on his scroll the only noise.

 

“And two?” asked David.

 

“Yes, two,” Pippa said briskly. “Explain this gym system stuff to me. I’m interested. I do like a good system.”

 

"Okay, so in the pokemon world, there is a gym system to compete in this big tournament. There are eight gyms, and you have to win at each of them to challenge the Elite Four."

 

"Hmmm...okay, now explain the Elite Four."

 

"Um...they're four of the best trainers in the world. And once you get through them, you go up against the Pokemon Champion. If you win against them, you become the new Champion."

 

Pippa considered the information for a bit, chewing on a strand of hair. "I like it. It's really a good system. It needs to be changed to work at Hogwarts, though. Eight gyms is too many for our needs. I'll think about that some more. And how would we establish who would be these people?"

 

"What about a tournament?" asks Rowan.

 

"I was thinking maybe, but that would require a lot of planning. Figuring out a fair way to match everyone up. And a place to go that we couldn't be easily stumbled upon," David told him, shaking his head. "I dunno if it would be possible."

 

"I accept your challenge," Pippa declared, standing up suddenly. Rowan hastily pulled his essay out of range of her feet.

 

"What challenge?" asked David, bewildered.

 

"I will plan the tournament!" Pippa declared.

 

"I didn't ask you to--"

 

"Dude, let it go; she's not listening anymore."

 

"I must away! To planning!" Pippa declared and dashed out of the common room.

 

The two boys stared after her. "Someone's going to cry by the end of this. I'd put a Galleon on it," said Rowan after a small silence.

  
"You're on."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was probably one of the most fun chapters to write. These three are so sassy and wonderful and the words just happened.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Planning and food, a Hufflepuff's favorite combination.

Pippa dodged her way through the halls, ducking behind the occasional suit of armor or statue to avoid being spotted by any of her fellow First Years. She was peering out from behind a still-singed statue of Gallus the Giant, considering her approach to the library when she spotted Llewella. Or who she was about seventy-five percent sure was Llewella, at least.

 

“Psst,” she hissed at the girl. “Llewella!” The girl jumped and nervously looked around. “Over here!” Llewella’s nose scrunched as she peered around. “Behind. The. Statue.” Llewella’s gaze finally settled on where Pippa was hiding, and she made a cautious approach.

 

“Hi, uh...Pippin?” she ventured.

 

“Pippa, thank you,” Pippa corrected. “You’re Llewella, right? I didn’t call over the wrong Hufflepuff?”

 

“No, I’m Llewella. Why did you...whisper me over?”

 

“Callisto told me to find you by way of David,” Llewella’s nose scrunched again. “David Stephens, Ravenclaw. Head in the clouds? Not important. Callisto apparently said you’ve got some ideas about the tournament?”

 

At this, Llewella’s face brightens. “Ooh, do I! This is so wonderful. I’ve been wanting to tell someone, but no one seems to want to listen, and it’s so frustrating!”

 

“Well, I could use any and all help that’s given to me,” Pippa told her. “Which is very little, at the moment.”

 

“First, though, why are you hiding behind this rather terrible statue?”

 

“Somehow, my attempt to make the tournament more fun and less boring has had the result of...well...everyone resenting me. I just wasn’t quite feeling up to dealing with it today. I was hiding in the courtyard till David told me to come find you.”

 

“But it’s freezing out!” Llewella protested. “Come on, I know how to get into the kitchens. The house elves will make you a nice hot cocoa, and we can talk about the tournament in peace.”

 

The house elves did make the best hot cocoa Pippa had tasted, she reflected later, sipping at a large mug of the stuff. The house elves had made a fuss over her while Llewella ran off to get something from her room. At some point, they’d wrapped a rather small blanket over her shoulders, and she’d been installed next to one of the fireplaces with a firm suggestion that she stay there.

 

Llewella slipped into the room with minimal fuss, snagging her own mug of hot cocoa and a very small warning to not let Pippa move away from the fireplace for another few minutes. She had a book and a roll of parchment tucked under one arm, and a pencil clenched between her teeth that she mumbled a quick greeting around. Pippa waited as patiently as she could while Llewella got settled, tapping her fingers against her mug.

 

“Okay,” Llewella said at long last. “How much do you actually know about the Pokemon system? No, wait. Explain your plan for the tournament. Your ideal plan, that is.”

 

“My ideal plan is the plan.”

 

“No backups?”

 

“I won’t need a backup,” Pippa said smugly. Llewella scrunched her nose again, but gestured for Pippa to explain, slurping at her cocoa. “I’m thinking we use the tournament as a method to set up the gym system David told me about. I haven’t figured out the best way to do it, at least not yet. I know I want it to be fewer than eight, though. That’s way too many.”

 

“Why not do it by House?” Llewella asked.

 

“It’s so exclusionary, and I see enough of that in the older Years,” Pippa scowled.

 

“No, see you’re thinking about it the wrong way round,” Llewella told her, gesturing frantically. “You’re thinking it’s limiting. It’s actually the opposite!” Pippa raised her eyebrows, but gestured for Llewella to go on. “If you have a gym leader for each House, you literally have to interact with the other Houses. If you want to get to the top, you have to beat the best each House has to offer. The gym system would mean players are required, by the system, to go out of their way to spend at least an hour with three students from other Houses. Probably more since they would need to hone their skills, and you can only do that for so long in-House.”

 

Pippa considered it, watching Llewella take another gulp of cocoa. “I’d never thought of it that way. But you’re right. So let’s say each House gets a ‘gym leader’. That means four gym leaders, so we would need to cut down on the Elite Four.”

 

“How far should we cut it, though?”

 

“How about…” Pippa tipped her head back to look at the ceiling, “...two Elite members, and then the Champion that David told me about.”

 

“So to get to the top, you need a total of six wins against the best Hogwarts has to offer.”

 

“If you want to be the new Champion, at least.”

 

“What happens to whoever becomes the new Champion?”

 

“They’re the person to beat for whoever wants to be the next Champion.”

 

“And the old Champion?” Llewella asked. Pippa took a sip of her cocoa, considering.

 

“I hadn’t thought of that. How does it work in the Pokemon world?” she asked, gesturing at the book Llewella brought, which had a picture of some sort of bright yellow animal with a ridiculous tail and bright red cheeks on it.

 

“They don’t really go into that. They step down, I suppose? The gym leaders are static, but the Elite Four might not be. I’m not really sure.”

 

“So we don’t have a guide to go off of here, then.”

 

“Nope, sorry. Oh! We should write this all down,” Llewella set her mug down and unrolled the parchment.

 

“Here, let me,” Pippa offered, holding out her hand for the pencil. She scratched out what they had so far, marking what they needed to figure out. “Let’s keep moving for now, and come back to this later.”

 

Llewella nodded. “Okay, so we set up a tournament to determine the four gym leaders, the Elite….Two?” Pippa frowned and underlined the name as she wrote it. “Yeah, come back to that later. What then?”

 

“Well, from then, we’ll have regular Saturday Pokemon. Anyone can battle anyone. But if they’re playing in the League, they have to let us know.”

 

“So technically speaking, a player could practice against the Champion to get an idea of what they’d be up against without any problems?”

 

Pippa frowned again. “Hmm, that seems off. I don’t know.”

 

Llewella shrugged, and smiled gratefully at the house elf who had deposited a plate of biscuits near her elbow. “Thanks! Pippa, we don’t have to get it perfect the first time, you know.”

 

“I know that!” Pippa snapped. She munched grumpily on a biscuit. “I just want it to be the best.”

 

Llewella paused. “The very best?”

 

“Well...I--yes?”

 

“Like no one ever was?”

 

Pippa eyed the Hufflepuff, who was grinning widely. “I’m missing something here, aren’t I?”

 

“It’s from the Pokemon theme song,” Llewella chirped. “I’ll get someone to sing it for you sometime; it’s an experience for sure.”

 

“Joy,” Pippa deadpanned. She looked down at the parchment between them. “Come on, Llewella, lots more to iron out. No time for singing.”

 

The pair worked at it for the rest of the afternoon and needed to ask the house elves to borrow some parchment after filling up their own with questions and rambling ideas. They ate their dinner in the kitchen, surrounded by the sounds of house elves bustling around and serving food to their fellow students a floor above them.

 

“Okay, so,” Llewella started, wiping at a spot of stew on the parchment. “The details are all as solid as we can make them. We’ve got a good list of who should participate, based on our limited knowledge. You’re going to run it by David, and I’m gonna run it by Callisto. However,” Pippa groaned into her bowl of stew, “I’ve just realized a huge flaw in the plan.”

 

Pippa looked over their scrawlings, frowning. Llewella opened her mouth again. “Sh, sh, sh. Don’t tell me!” Pippa said, holding up a hand. Llewella let out a gusty sigh, but focused on her stew for the moment. Pippa kept looking over everything, starting to chew on her hair.

 

“That’s bad for your hair,” Llewella cut in matter-of-factly, pointing with her spoon.

 

“Sh!” Pippa hissed, batting the spoon away. “Oh Merlin,” she moaned, spotting the problem. Llewella nodded glumly. “Where are we going to hold the tournament?” she wailed.

 

“Yup, got it in one,” Llewella sighed. She propped her chin on her hand, sighing. “And we’d just gotten everything as well designed as a pair of eleven-year-olds could ever hope to and everything. Alas, alack.”

 

Pippa blinked. “Where have I heard that before…?” She muttered as she squinted at the Hufflepuff. And then she yelped. “Your last name is Jones.” Llewella frowned at her, confused. “Your mum is Gwenllian Jones.” Llewella shifts uncomfortably. “My mum listens to your mum’s show. She charmed a copy of your mum’s book to stick to the cabinet next to the stove.”

 

“Ah, yes. Well.” Llewella stood up and bundled together the parchments they’d used. “I think we should head upstairs. Dinner’s almost done, so curfew will start soon. I’ll see you tomorrow, probably.” Llewella rushed through the words as she backed out of their little nook and towards the door. Pippa got up to chase after her, but was waylaid by a house elf pressing a cup of hot tea in her hands for ‘the cold walk up to Ravenclaw tower’, apparently. By the time she got to the hall, Llewella had vanished. Pippa glumly plodded up to Ravenclaw Tower.

 


	5. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even wizards complain, and Pippa is forever grumpy.

News of the tournament spread like wildfire through the First Years. Suddenly, everyone wanted to learn to play, prompting Pippa to make playing in the tournament invite-only. There were serious objections.

 

“If you’re just learning, you’re not going to have any fun if you have to go up against Sheehan or Fatima,” David explained to an indignant Gryffindor. He was spared from another tirade by Callisto, who quickly pulled him away.

 

“I’m loving the tournament idea. And despite what some people are saying,” she sent a look towards the still-lingering Gryffindor, “the experience thing is genius. Llewella is telling everyone who will listen it’s a way to set up an Elite Four and gym system. Of course, very few people are listening,” Callisto informed him at high speed.

 

“Oh...uh,” Davin hummed. Their original match had thrust popularity onto the Hufflepuff girl, and she’d grabbed it in a friendly chokehold and wasn’t looking to let it go anytime soon. It was all very intimidating.

 

“Oh, for goodness sake!” Callisto shoved him towards the library. “Go talk to Llewella. She’s got ideas, and she needs to tell them to someone who will listen. And the prefects will only ignore her for so long.”

 

“I mean, I’m hardly the person in charge,” David told her. “That’s really more Pippa.”

 

“Thomas? She’s terrible at Pokemon.”

 

“She’s very organized,” David defended her heatedly.

 

“And yet she can’t follow the directions to make a simple Swelling Solution.”

 

“Her dad’s a potions brewer for St. Mungo’s. She grew up with potions; she already knows everything we’re learning.”

 

“While this is interesting, it isn’t dealing with the fact that someone should talk to Llewella, and you are still talking to me.”

 

“I’ll get Pippa to talk to her?” David ventured.

 

Callisto nodded, mollified. “Cool. Are you gonna participate?”

 

“Yeah. That’s part of the reason Pippa took control. Something about fairness and being available during the tournament.”

 

“Makes sense.”

 

“She does that sometimes. What about you?”

 

“Gonna try, but I’m actually pretty bad at it. Not sure I’ll make the cut for the skill level.” Callisto shrugged.

 

“You know, you have a good deck. I could give you a couple pointers if you want.”

 

“That’d be awesome. I’ll figure out a time I don’t have anything going on. Let you know by Friday, yeah?” Without giving him a chance to answer, she trotted off with a backwards wave. David stared after her long enough to see her link arms with another First Year, and then turned to see about finding Pippa.

 

***

"I hope this is important," Pippa warned him when he found her curled up on a bench in one of the courtyards.

 

"Why are you out here? It's freezing!"

 

"To get some peace and quiet. Everyone is bothering me about the tournament. I’m tired of explaining it to people and being called rude,” Pippa told him, flicking her cloak so it covered her toes better. “Me, rude? As if.”

 

“Right, yeah, that would never happen,” David said sarcastically. Pippa shot him a dirty look. “But I’m not here to disagree with you. Callisto just told me that Llewella has some ideas about the tournament.”

 

“Which one’s Llewella again?”

 

“Hufflepuff, I’m guessing, since she’s friends with Callisto,” David shrugged.

 

“Everyone is friends with Callisto. Is she also going to complain at me about the skill level?” Pippa grumbled.

 

“Probably not? Callisto agrees with you on that, by the way. So everyone will probably stop taking it out on you soon?” David offered, hoping this would smooth Pippa’s riled feelings. Pippa huffed out a breath and rolled her eyes, but she did seem less frustrated than before. “Anyway. Llewella. Ideas. She was in the library last I heard, but I dunno if she’ll still be there.”

 

“Yeah, okay, I could use some ideas, anyway. But if I even hear a suggestion of her being upset about the skill levels, I will hex her. Mark my words.”

 

“Yes, yes, they’re marked. Head in now; I’m freezing out here.”

 


	6. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Ravenclaw is always prepared for midnight eureka moments, mornings are hard, and where are the pancakes for Hufflepuff?

Halfway through the night, Pippa bolted upright in bed. “Ishi!” she yelled, struggling out from under the mound of covers she’d found piled on her bed upon her return. “Ishi Ishi Ishi,” she chanted, shaking her fellow Ravenclaw. At last, she got a grumble of acknowledgement. “Ishi, I figured it out!”

 

“Congrats, now go back to sleep,” grumbled a voice from across the room as Alexis sat up in her bed. “What did you figure out, anyway?”

 

“Pokemon!” Pippa cheered, digging around for the chalk they kept around the room. “I know where to hold it!” She started writing on the stone wall between her own bed and Ishi’s, who was peering out from her covers. Behind her, Alexis was telling the other two First Years to go back to bed, explaining that Pippa had just had a eureka moment, but she was writing it down, so they were good. Pippa stood back, and gestured with a flourish to the wall, where she’d written Room of Requirement in bright red chalk. Her eyes glowed with triumph. “Challenge complete!” she crowed. Across the room, Alexis applauded sarcastically, and Ishi let out a quiet cheer from her bed.

 

“Well done, Pip. Now go back to sleep. The sun isn’t up, so we shouldn’t be, either,” Alexis told her, flopping back in bed. Pippa dragged a cover from her bed and deposited it cheerfully on Ishi, who hummed happily.

 

“Goodnight, you beautiful intelligent futures of Wizarding Britain!” she chirped to the room as she settled under the covers.

 

“I will hex you if you don’t shut up,” threatened Chrysanthemum from Ishi’s other side. The lights dimmed as they all stopped moving, the charms putting them to sleep. Pippa grinned at the canopy of her bed as she fell back to sleep.

 

*****

The next morning, Pippa lurked inside the doorway to the Great Hall waiting for Llewella. When the Hufflepuff sleepily trudged through the door, Pippa snagged her arm and dragged her over to the Ravenclaw table. “I figured it out!” she hissed excitedly to Llewella, who was reaching for a bowl for oatmeal.

 

“Huh?” Llewella said, slowly.

 

Pippa jumped as Callisto sat down across from her with a flourish. “Don’t bother, she’s useless until she’s got some breakfast in her,” Callisto told her, tucking a curl behind her ear. “Are those pancakes?”

 

“Yeah,” Pippa said, passing them to her. “Did Llewella talk to you last night?”

 

“Mmhmm,” Callisto hummed as she served herself a couple pancakes. “Man, the Hufflepuff table doesn’t get pancakes. Or if we do, the older Years hoard them,” she said as she reverently drizzled syrup. “Llewella told me you got most of the details for the tournament figured out, yeah. She had a list of people you two were thinking of inviting to the first round and asked my opinion. I’ll tell you what I told her,” she started cutting apart her pancake, “I don’t know the skills well enough to tell you if you’ve got a good list or not.” With that, Callisto took a large bit of pancakes effectively cutting off the conversation. Beside Pippa, Llewella looked around sleepily.

 

“This isn’t the right table,” she muttered.

 

“Merlin’s beard! What is with everyone and the tablehopping?!” came David’s frantic voice as he sat down on Pippa’s other side. Rowan sat down next to Callisto on the other side and pulled the rest of the pancakes in front of himself. “We are going to get in trouble at some point. You know that, right?” David moaned at her.

 

“This is my table; I’m not getting in anything like trouble,” Pippa told him. Callisto snorted as she speared another bit of pancakes. “Why do you think I dragged Llewella here instead of going to her table?”

 

“Also, there are no pancakes at our table,” Callisto added in.

 

“A horror, indeed,” Rowan agreed. David buried his head in his hands. Callisto reached across the table to pat his shoulder.

 

“David, did you get a chance to look at the list of names I gave you last night?” Pippa asked as she tried to find the cereal.

 

“Yeah, and they’re all good players, so I think you’ll be fine. Mimsy probably has the cornflakes,” he told her, and she headed down the table to find the First Year. “I’d run the list past a couple more people, though.”

 

“Why?” asked Llewella, finally awake enough to participate in the conversation.

 

“Fairness,” interrupted Rowan, still chewing on some pancake. “You’ve got a Ravenclaw and a Hufflepuff running the show; you can’t have a Ravenclaw and a Hufflepuff be the only ones to check over the list of invited players, as well. Plus, David and Callisto both have a vested interest in who gets in since they’re playing.”

 

“He’s got a good point,” Callisto agreed. “People are already complaining, as Pippa,” she pointed at the girl as she sat back down with a bowl of cornflakes, “knows all too well. Anything you can do to make it more fair is a good plan.”

 

“Okay, but who do we trust with the information? We can’t just ask everyone,” Llewella pointed out.

 

The small group was silent for a little bit as everyone ate and thought about it.

 

“Two people from every House,” Callisto suggested at last. “You’ve already got the two for Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, so it’s only fair that Gryffindor and Slytherin get the same chance.”

 

“Philomena and Frank would be perfect for Slytherin,” said David. “They’re on top of what’s happening in Pokemon, and they’re both already on the list, so we don’t have to worry about them adding their own names.”

 

“Plus, they’re competitive, so they won’t add in anyone that might give another player an easier match than the ones they’re getting,” added Callisto. “I can talk to them; they come to History of Magic right after me.”

 

“What about Gryffindor?” asked Llewella.

 

“Fatima,” blurted David. They all looked at him. “Well, she’s the one that really got me thinking about it, so she should be in on it.” He paused and then added, “Plus she’s good at Pokemon.”

 

“Okay, so Fatima for David over there. You can be the one to ask her,” said Rowan, grinning. “How about our second?”

 

“Wendy?” suggested Llewella sleepily. “She’s like the most competitive person I can imagine, and she really loves the game.”

 

They all considered it, and then Pippa nodded. “Sounds good. Can you talk to her about it?” she asked David, who nodded. “Cool, so we’re good to go!”

 

“Location, in that we don’t have one,” reminded Llewella from beside her.

 

Pippa smacked her forehead. “Ugh, I got so distracted I didn’t tell you! I completely figured it out! The Room of Requirement, Llewella! It’ll be perfect!”

 

“Everyone knows about the Room of Requirement now,” pointed out David, checking his watch. “Also, almost time for classes.”

 

“We can keep people out. I’m like eighty percent certain of it,” said Pippa, bolting down the last of her flakes.

 

“Not very good odds,” Rowan said around his last mouthful of pancakes. Callisto, beside him, made a disgusted noise.

  
“We figured this out, we can figure that out,” Pippa said breezily. “It’ll be easy.”


	7. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An improper use of classroom time.

David slunk into his seat in Potions, trying to ignore the looks Pippa was giving him and Rowan’s elbow nudging him. “I get it, guys,” he hissed at them. “I need to talk to Fatima, but the middle of class?”

“I’ve got the potion under control,” Pippa told him, rolling her eyes. “It’s easy. And Rowan knows how to distract me so I don’t go trying to mess with it.”

“Is that what I’m supposed to do? I thought I was the enabler,” Rowan whispered to her. 

“See?!” David hissed. 

“The point,” she told him, putting her hand over Rowan’s mouth, “is that you need to go be Fatima’s potion partner for today so you can talk to her about the list. I’ll even put up with Rowan for the day, just for you.”

“I know I’m your favorite Potions partner,” Rowan said around her hand. Pippa made a face.

“Quick, there she is!” And with that, Pippa gave him a shove towards Fatima, who’d just slipped through the door.

“H-hey Fatima,” he said as he stumbled to a stop. “You wanna be Potions partners today? It’d give me a chance to talk to you about the tournament.”

Fatima grinned. “Yeah, that sounds awesome,” she said. “I was hoping to hear some news, instead of just gossip.”

“Okay, so I have a list of people we want to invite to participate. You should look over it, make any corrections,” he told her as they settled behind a cauldron.

“Can do,” Fatima told him.

“Oh, also Wendelin, please,” David added as Professor Slughorn stepped to the front of the room.

“I’ll get Wendy to look at it first, then.” Fatima said. “She’s with Sam, and he won’t let her touch anything when it comes to Potions. I’ll look it over at lunch.”

“Is she that bad?” David asked.

“No, but he has trouble letting other people help him,” she told him, turning her attention to Slughorn. David did the same. Later, he watched as Fatima passed the list off to Wendy with a quick whisper under the pretense of getting another batch of nettles. Wendy looked over and saluted at David, who grinned back weakly.

***  
At the end of a spectacularly boring History of Magic, where she’d mostly played War with Llewella, Callisto bounced in place outside the classroom doorway. Llewella waited for a long second before Callisto waved her on to walk with a couple other Hufflepuffs. As they turned the corner, she could hear Edmund asking if the Ravenclaw table really had pancakes.

Callisto bounced on the balls of her feet a couple times as she said hellos to the Slytherins heading through the doorway to History of Magic. When she saw Frank turn the corner, she waved quickly at him to get his attention.

“Frank! Frank, over here!” she called, and he slowly approached. “Hi, hello, how are you?”

“I’m...good. How are you, Callisto?”

“Good, I need to ask you a favor, but I want to do it with Philomena so I don’t have to explain things twice,” she told him.

“You’ll have to wait then; Oswald took Philomena to see Madam Pomfrey before breakfast. Something about a fever?” Frank told her, sneaking a glance in the classroom.

“Aw, man,” Callisto whined. “Oh well, I guess. Okay, so I have this list of people to invite to the Pokemon tournament, and I want you to take a look over it to see if it’s a good list. Philomena, too, please.”

Frank took the list from her, and gave it a quick look. “You want me to go over this with Philomena?”

“Well…” she hedged. “It doesn’t have to be at the exact same time, but she does need to see it. In fact, I can get it from her after I’m done with Potions this afternoon! So you’d just need to give her the list and explain what she needs to do.”

Frank looked at the list again, and then nodded. “I’ll get Oz to give it to her when she goes to visit at lunch.”

“Cool! Thanks a bunch, I’ve got to get to Charms, must go!” Callisto told him before rushing off.


	8. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Probably the most awkward lunch? 
> 
> The point of no return is reached. No take backsies, guys.

After Potions, David walked up from the dungeons, hands tucked into his robe pockets in a desperate attempt to warm them after the ice-cold faucets in the Potions room. “I’m just saying, would it kill them to put a heating charm on the water?” Rowan was saying next to them. Pippa was sulking quietly on his other side, having been docked points for attempting to add porcupine quills to the potion.

 

He was just starting to relax as he ate his sandwich squished between Pippa and David when Frank McEwen sat down across from him, Oswald Mitchell at his shoulder holding a full plate of food.

 

“Hey, I looked over the list for the tournament,” Frank said as a greeting. Oswald was clearly eyeing up their lunch selection, and Rowan nudged a plate of rolls toward her. “I just wanted to let you know Oz is about to take it to Philomena in the Infirmary.”

 

“Thanks?” David told Oswald, who smiled a thanks as she grabbed a couple rolls to add to the plate in her hands.

 

“Gotta go,” she told Frank, jerking her head towards the door. “Phil’s gonna want her homework, Merlin knows why. I’ll make sure she gets the list!” The last sentence was directed at the three Ravenclaws, rather pointedly.

 

Rowan stared at Frank for a second before asking, “Is there a particular reason you’re making sure we know Sheehan is getting the list?”

 

“We’re Slytherins,” said Frank, scowling. “Not exactly known for our sense of ‘fair play’. So I want to make sure I won’t get accused of cheating or something equally ridiculous.”

 

“What does being a Slytherin have to do with not cheating?” piped up Brian Bartlett, who was sitting on Rowan’s other side.

 

“You’re Muggleborn, aren’t you?” asked Frank. Brian nodded. “Well, we Slytherins have got a bad reputation because a couple of us were actually evil, and now the whole thing with He Who Must Not Be Named. We can’t seem to shake it off. It’s a bit frustrating."

 

"You're eleven, though!" protested Brian. "How can you be considered on the same level as Voldemort?"

 

"Wizards are dumb, Brian. You'd best get used to it now."

 

"Ooh, are we pointing out problems in Wizarding culture?" came a voice from the table behind Frank; it was Fatima, leaning towards them. She had David's list in her hands. "Can I pop over?" Without waiting for an answer, she sat down next to Frank. "Frank, how's it going?"

 

"Swell," he deadpanned. "I'm explaining to someone why an eleven-year-old is treated to a 'guilty until proven innocent' mindset. Your headscarf looks nice today."

 

"Thanks, my cousin sent it to me. She's convinced the green brings out the undertones in my skin."

 

Llewella sat down on Frank’s other side as Fatima showed off the scarf. “Hey Frank, Callisto caught Oswald on her way to the Infirmary and went with her. She may or may not eat half the food Oz had with her.”

 

Frank shrugged. “Oz doesn’t really need all of it, and Philomena’s probably in no mood to eat. She hates missing class.”

 

“I know that feeling,” sighed David.

 

“So when are we going to get the tournament actually explained to us?” asked Fatima, leaning past Frank to look at Llewella.

 

“Depends on how soon we can get a list of names. We’ll figure out the date and time, invite those people to participate and everyone else to watch--if they feel they must--and then explain the rules there,” Pippa interrupted before Llewella could swallow her bite of sandwich.

 

“Name list! Right! Wendy gave me it back to look over,” Fatima rummaged around in her bag for a bit before pulling it out. “I’ll be done by the time I finish lunch, promise!”

 

“Are you all here for a reason?” All of them jumped as Iridum Marshwater, Ravenclaw Prefect, seemingly appeared next to them.

 

“Of course they are!” said Rowan indignantly. “They’re here...for _friendship_!”

 

“Shut it, Bakerson,” Iridum told him wearily. “Listen, you have your own tables. Stay at your own tables. This is your only warning.” She gave Frank a look and then headed back to the group of Ravenclaw Fifth Years she’d been sitting with before. They all stayed quiet for a bit.

 

“Rude!” muttered Fatima. “So rude!”

 

“I knew there was a tablehopping rule!” David told Fatima.

 

“No, there isn’t! It’s a stupid thing to have a rule about,” Fatima retorted. “She just didn’t want Frank here. Which is completely and utterly RUDE!” Fatima shouted the last word down the table; the Ravenclaw First Years around their group frantically shushed her.

 

“Leave it, Fatima,” Frank sighed.

 

Fatima scowled, but went back to the list. The rest of the Great Hall continued on with cheer, but their little group was subdued. Frank wasn’t looking up from his plate, Fatima was openly scowling, and the Ravenclaws were glancing between each other worriedly. The rest of lunch went like this. When the bell for classes rung, Frank slid out with a quiet goodbye.

 

Fatima scowled after him, before shoving the scrap of parchment at Pippa with a grunt and storming off.

 

“Well, that was horribly awkward,” said Rowan, standing up himself.

 

“At least I got the list. And Callisto probably got Sheehan’s input, so we are officially in go-mode once classes are done,” Pippa said. “Llewella, see you in the library.”

  
**********

Pippa was checking over the lists Fatima had given her, carefully hidden from Madame Pince behind the twenty-five volume book set of _Foster’s Complete Listeing of Potiones_. The pair hadn’t changed their existing list too much, a few names crossed off and several added. Fatima had crossed off one of Wendelin’s suggestions and drawn a sad face next to it.

 

“Pippa!” came a loud whisper. “Pip! Pa!” Pippa stuck her hand in the air and waved. Llewella appeared beside her a moment later. “Sorry, I couldn’t find you,” she whispered.

 

“Clearly. Callisto give you the list?”

 

“Yeah, here.” Llewella handed her the piece of parchment. “You got the one from Gryffindor?”

 

“Yeah. I’m hoping there’s some overlap…” The pair looked over the lists. Philomena and Frank had made more changes than the Gryffindors, but a lot of the names were on both lists.

 

“See who’s on both, and invite them,” Llewella suggested. “How many are on both lists?”

 

“Looks like about fifteen,” murmured Pippa, copying names onto a third sheet of parchment. The point of her quill broke. “Ugh, let me get my spare--”

 

“Here. Pencil. Much better,” told Llewella, holding one out, and started looking the lists over and marking next to the names. “We’ve got four people from every house but Gryffindor. Let’s find a Gryffindor from the lists to add. Then we’ll have a nice, even sixteen.”

 

Pippa looked over the two lists and pointed at a name. “Sam. Fatima will apparently be sad about it,” she pointed to his name, which had the sad face next to it, “but we’re inviting Jess, so it makes sense.” Llewella thought about and then nodded, adding his name to their list.

 

“So how do we let them know they’ve been invited?” asked Llewella as she wrote.

 

“I figured we could Owl them. It’s easier than trying to track them down,” Pippa said, pulling more parchment out of her bag.

 

Llewella frowned. “O...kay but I’m not looking forward to writing sixteen invitations.”

 

“Nah, we write one, and then I’ll use this neat copy spell my mum taught me over hols to do the rest,” Pippa told her. Llewella shrugged.

 

“We should make sure to let them know they can invite friends to the tournament, even if they won’t be able to compete that day,”

 

In the end, they had a letter that read:

 

_Congratulations! You’ve been chosen to compete in the Hogwarts Pokemon League. This will be a preliminary match to decide on who will be House Gym Leaders (and please suggest an alternate name if you think of one), the Elite Two, and the coveted Pokemon Champion! The tournament will take place this coming Saturday morning at 10 o'clock in the Room of Requirement. Once there, rules will be explained, as well as the tier system we will use to determine all positions. You are free to invite as many First Years as you feel fit, but only First Years will be allowed into the tournament. Following this tournament, any First Year will be allowed to challenge Gym Leaders or any other player to a game at the Saturday Pokemon Tournament. Please Owl us if you have any questions, we’re trying to keep everything on the quiet side._

_Pippa and Llewella_

 

They quickly used Pippa’s copying spell and went up to the Owlery to mail them. The owls they used all looked a little miffed when told they would be delivering to Hogwarts students, and gave the girls sharp looks as they took off with the notes.

 

As they watched the last owl make a sharp climb to the Ravenclaw tower, Llewella let out a sigh. “Well, no backing out now, I guess.”

 

 


	9. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And so the tournament happens.

Saturday came far too quickly for Llewella’s liking. Despite saying that any questions should be Owled to Pippa and Llewella, they were still bombarded with questions in person. Luckily, no one was visibly upset over who was chosen to participate. Llewella counted it a small mercy.

 

Finally, it was just Pippa and Llewella on Saturday, standing in front of the expanse of wall that held the Room of Requirement.

 

“Go on, then,” said Pippa, nodding towards the wall. “You know what we need more than I do.”

 

Llewella started to walk up and down the corridor, thinking as loudly as she could. _I need a place to have this tournament. Tables are a must, and chairs. It would be nice to have some hit counters, probably, I don’t know for sure everyone has their own. I need something to keep track of the tiers, someplace for people to watch…_ On her second lap, she glanced at the wall. Nothing was there. Was it supposed to be there? Was it three laps or two? Four, maybe? _Focus, Llewella. I need a place to have the tournament. I need this to work because I need a place to hold this tournament._ She thought desperately as she made the third lap. And right on cue, a door appeared in the wall. It was a wooden door, with a Pokemon ball carved delicately into it. Around it were the symbols for all seven of the card game element types. Behind her, Pippa let out a impressed breath.

 

“Cool,” she breathed.

 

“Yeah,” Llewella agreed, brushing a hand against the door. “Come on. I think I asked for everything we’ll need.”

 

Sure enough, inside had a chalkboard to keep track of the standings, nicely sized tables with chairs, and seating on the edges for spectators.

 

“Woah, it even made the tables have all the right spots for a Pokemon game,” said Llewella, looking at one of the tables scattered around. Pippa’s eyes were wide as she looked around.

 

“This room is some serious magic. How even?” She then shook her head. “Not for me to know. Not now, at least. It looks like we’re good, though. Let’s get the tiers set up.” She went over the the chalkboard and writing names. Llewella got to work on making the ladder system. Students slowly started trickling in.

 

By ten, everyone they’d invited was there, with a lot of other people. At least half of the First Years were in the room. Llewella wouldn’t have been surprised if all fifty of their year was in the Room right now. The sound was pretty quiet, for that many eleven-year-olds on a Saturday.

 

“Okay, so,” Pippa got up on a chair and shouted over the crowd. “Here’s the tier system,” she pointed at the board they’d worked on. “We start with the line of names in the middle. If you lose your first match, you go to the left tier. If you win you go to the right tier. I know how it works, believe me. I’m keeping track. My word is law. Llewella’s gonna explain rules to you.”

 

Llewella got up onto her own chair. “You should all already know what to do. That’s why we invited you. Everyone has more than enough chances to prove their skills, so I don’t want to hear anything about how you just had a bad game.” She paused, taking a breath. “The tier is designed to narrow it down to one person on the left and right side. The winners of the two sides will play each other, and the victor of that match will be the champion. The runner up and the winner of the match between the losers of the last tier match will be the Elite Two, as we are temporarily calling them. Please let us know if you have a better name; it really doesn’t sound great,” Llewella told the crowd, scrunching her nose. There were some chuckles. “Gym leaders will be the highest ranking non-Elite player from each House. So if the champion is a Hufflepuff,” she gestured to herself, “and the Elite’s are both non-Hufflepuff’s, it’ll be the next highest Hufflepuff on tier. If we have a tie, they’ll battle each other.”

 

Pippa chimed in again, “Again, our word is law. This will all fall apart if there isn’t someone in charge. And we happened to get here first,” she grinned.

 

“After all this is decided, we’ll let you know where everyone stands. How many wins, how many losses. Then we’ll start in on regular matches. To challenge the Elite Two, you have to beat the Gym Leader from every House. We keep track of that. Once you’ve beat all the House Gyms, you challenge the first of the Elite Two, which is the second runner up, and then the second, which is the first runner up. Once you get through all that, you go up against the Champion. If you beat the champion, you become the champion. The former champion becomes the second Elite member, and so forth. Basically, everyone moves down a spot,” Llewella said.

 

“Except Gym Leaders. They are, for the moment, static. We’re still trying to figure out a good way to run them,” added Pippa.

 

“Right, Gym Leaders. Okay, so. The rules apply to you even if you’re a Elite member. You have to beat the gyms and the other member to challenge the Champion. You do essentially get a free win, though,for being in the Elite Two,” Llewella said. “I think I covered everything. We’re gonna get started now. Listen for your name. The tables are numbered, and we’ll tell you what number to go to. When you’re done, come up to this table,” Llewella pointed to the table next to chalkboard, “and let us know the result. We’ll let you know where to go from there. Pippa?”

 

“Okay, at Table One!” Pippa shouted, “We’ve got Harriett Pulless and Harry Hattrill. I promise this was accidental!” The room laughs, and Harriet and Harry headed to Table One. Pippa kept reading off names, and around them the games slowly got going. Llewella couldn’t help but grin to herself.

 

The matches went well, far more so than Llewella had expected. She mostly spent her time explaining rules to the onlookers and keeping track of the tier progress. Pippa was the one stuck with making sure everyone played the right person at the right table; to be fair, she clearly reveled in the power she was wielding.

 

Like many of the spectators, she paid attention to only a few of the games - there were a lot going on. She watched her own Housemates play, and cheered on Callisto in her matches. A few matches had more watchers than others- none more so than the match between the Coldwater twins. Sam and Jess were both good players and, the rumor was, had once competed to see who could brush their teeth longer, so the match had promised to be epic. It ended up being one of the longer matches, with Jess just barely squeaking out a win on a lucky coin flip.

 

After a couple hours, Pippa stood back up on her chair. “Alright folks, it’s time for what you’ve been waiting for. The final match! This determines the champion! We’ve got our second runner up match going,” she pointed to the table where Frank McEwen and Rasmus Northill were playing, “but on the main stage we’ve got our championship match! From Slytherin, the tiniest girl you’ll ever meet, Philomena Sheehan. Facing off against her, the lovely Fatima al-Pachachi. Fatima, I said it right?” asked Pippa. Fatima nodded, laughing, “Cool. Ladies, let’s get this going!” Pippa plopped down next to Llewella, and gave her a one armed hug. “This has been an amazing day!” she said.

 

Llewellyn grinned back. “Definitely. I kind of guessed they’d end up playing each other. Can’t wait to see what happens, though!”

 

And that was when the door to the Room of Requirement crashed open. Outside it were a group of Prefects and, far more terrifying, Headmistress McGonagall. Every First Year froze in their spot; Philomena halfway through drawing a card. There was a moment of perfect, terrified silence. Then someone, Llewella was pretty sure it was Rowan, shouted “Scatter!” and the entire group started moving. McGonagall and the prefects were clearly stunned by the response, and several First Years that had been closer to the door managed to scamper past them. More escaped through suddenly appearing doors along the wall before the Prefects started corralling a group in the center. Llewella stayed in her seat, frozen, with Pippa’s arm still wrapped around her shoulder.

 

“I think we’re in trouble…” Pippa whispered.  Llewella nodded mutely beside her.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, I had to actually look up the Pokémon Trading Card Game to understand enough to write this. For example: they really do only have the 7 elements. As opposed to the bajillion in the games. Also they once banned a Slowking from play. The more you know!


	10. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trouble is relative. Perfectionism is not.

McGonagall stared at the two girls across the desk from her. Pippa Thomas was chewing nervously on a lock of her hair. Llewella Jones looked like she was about to burst into tears. “Well. Ladies, I would appreciate an explanation.”

 

Both girls stared at her in silence. Jones’ face was starting to get blotchy. “I don’t have all day now.” Jones looked down quickly; Minerva was pretty sure to hide a teardrop. She sighed. “Neither of you are in any trouble. I’m just interested in knowing why most of my First Years were in the Room of Requirement on a gorgeous Saturday morning instead of outside in the sunlight.”

 

“We’re not in trouble?” Thomas asked quietly. Jones lets out a small sniffle.

 

“Heavens, no. No one is in trouble. Jones, take a tissue, there’s a dear.” Minerva summoned a box of tissues and passed it to the Hufflepuff, who took a tissue and wiped her nose. Thomas chewed on her hair some more. Minerva sighed again. “I’m actually quite impressed. Three-quarters of a year were there. From every House, too. Impressive, really.”

 

Thomas opened her mouth, then closed it again.

 

“Looked a little like Chocolate Frog Cards.” It was a gamble, but it paid off. Jones spluttered, and Tomas looked a little insulted.

 

“Chocolate Frog Cards?” Jones muttered. At least she’d stopped sniffling.

 

“It was Pokemon, Headmistress. A Muggle card game.” Thomas explained.

 

Minerva raised an eyebrow. “I don’t believe I’ve heard of it. I’m guessing it’s not like Chocolate Frog Cards, though?”

 

Thomas looked at Jones. Jones wiped her nose again. “It’s similar. You do trade the cards. But you also use them to, well, battle.”

 

“I’m sure there’s many parts of this I don’t understand.” Jones opened her mouth, and Minerva held up a hand. “And that is something I am fine with. We need to move on to why I actually wanted you two to come in to speak with me. My prefects tell me that anyone who has actually been willing to tell them anything has said you two were the organizers of the event.” Jones’ eyes went wide, while Thomas pursed her lips. “Again, you aren’t in any trouble. I’m only curious why you didn’t start a club.”

 

Both girls blinked. “A...club?” asked Thomas. Jones looked just as confused.

 

“Yes, a club. With a teacher sponsor. Much like our Frog Choir.”

 

“Oh um…” Thomas stuttered. “I guess...I didn’t…”

 

“We didn’t realize it was a thing we could do,” whispered Jones.

 

“Well I assure you it is. I’d be happy to have a Polamin club at Hogwarts. You can speak to a staff member about sponsoring your club. I’d even be happy to do it myself, though I wouldn’t be able to attend many of the meetings.” Minerva smiled at the two girls. “But something tells me that’s the way you would prefer it.”

 

“Yes please!” Jones blurted. “Sorry, ma’am.”

 

“You’re fine, Jones. We’ll need to arrange a time to go over rules and meeting times. Perhaps you and some of your friends could join me for lunch in order to get that organized.” Jones nodded quickly. “Now, Jones, go reassure your friends that no one’s going to be expelled. And ask them to start answering my prefects’ questions.”

 

“What about Pippa?”

 

“I want to have a word with her for a moment. It’ll just be a second.” Jones was still hesitating, looking at Thomas. “If you want, you can just wait on the landing.” This seemed to work for Jones, since she slowly headed towards the door.

 

Minerva waited until the door had closed behind Jones before standing up and walking around the desk to sit in the recently vacated chair. “Pippa. Look at me.” Pippa looked up, still frowning. “There’s nothing wrong with not knowing there was a way to set up a club. We don’t tend to let students know about that until Second Year, because we don’t expect them to want to start a club when they’re so young. I’m going to have to see about changing that. Especially if we keep having trailblazers like you and Jones and your friends coming into Hogwarts.” Thomas let out a small smile. “Better. Now head out with Jones.”

 

“Yes, Headmistress.”

 

“Good girl.” Minerva watched the girl go, and then looked up at the portraits on the walls. “I’m going to have to keep an eye on their year. Something tells me they’re going to be as much a headache as Potter.”

 


	11. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An optional reading in which a Gryffindor is a dick. And no one is surprised about it.

True to her word, McGonagall was not an attentive club sponsor. She attended the final rematch between Philomena and Fatima, watching attentively with Wendelin whispering explanations the whole time. At the end, she shook both girls' hands and congratulated Philomena on a good, if still confusing, win. She attended the first official club meeting, and sat quietly while Pippa shouted down a Gryffindor who hadn't bothered to read the club rules and was trying to challenge Philomena for the champion position. And then she stopped, Owling Llewella and Pippa an apology note and explaining she'd been called away by the school Governors, and really had quite a lot to do would they mind if she didn't attend for a few weeks? They didn't. Llewella Owled her back a Growlithe card (McGonagall kept it quietly on her desk for quite a long time). 

The club continued peacefully for several weeks. Pippa and Llewella quickly found out that outside of the original set up, and making sure they were keeping track of standings, the tournaments were easy on them. They mostly sat at their table in the Room of Requirement, reading or doing homework to the quiet hum of Pokemon matches. 

One such Saturday morning found them in that position; Llewella was curled up in the armchair the Room created for her that morning and reading a book, Pippa was carefully propped over a roll of parchment to create the illusion she definitely wasn't napping. It was a slow day for them, without any official challenges. 

Pippa was just starting to enjoy a lovely dream when the door to the Room slammed open. She jolted awake and glared towards the door. In it stood a small group of 7th years. Pippa reached over and flicked Llewella's knee; she growled and didn't look up from her book. Pippa looked at the rapidly approaching group. Her heart sank as she saw they were Gryffindors. 

"You're in charge?" asked the leader of the group loudly. Llewella finally looked up from her book, saw the group, and quickly attempted to hide behind it again. A couple of the closer pairs of players looked over. 

"Well, duh," Pippa told him, pointing to the sign over the table that read 'We're in charge'. Her nerves did have a tendency to make her mean. "Kudos on the reading. Top score." There were a couple muted giggles around the room.

Her guest scowled. "I challenge you to a duel," he said, far more loudly than he needed to. He now had the entire room's attention, which meant around twenty First Years and a handful of Second Years. 

"What?" Pippa asked. 

"I. Challenge. You. To. A. Duel," he said again, talking slowly. Pippa scowled. 

"I'm actually really busy right now, as I'm sure you can see," she gestured at their table, which had her parchment, sparsely doodled on, and Llewella's backup book, in case she finishing the first one. She smiled at him. "I couldn't possibly find the time," she said sweetly and turned back to her paper, deliberately beginning to draw a phoenix. 

The Gryffindor seemed a little flummoxed. He shifted in front of her. "But… I challenged you!" He protested. 

"And I politely declined," Pippa said, adding some more feathers to the phoenix's wings. 

"That's how the rules work. Keeps things civil," piped up Llewella quietly, face still hidden behind her book. 

Their group huddled up for a second, and then faced them again. The leader stepped close and leaned over the table, looming over Pippa. Llewella's eyes went wide, and Pippa had to force herself to not shrink backwards. He was extremely tall, and she felt tiny. "I said, I challenge you to a duel," he said again.

"And I said no," she told him. Over his shoulder, she saw Wendelin and Philomena come through the door. She grinned suddenly. "But! If you're really looking for a match, it looks like a couple players just came in." She pointed at the pair of girls in the doorway. The whole group turned. Pippa could see them size the pair up. Wendelin was tall for her age, and she was in Gryffindor. Philomena, tiny and with a Slytherin house badge gleaming on her bag strap, would be a much more appealing target for them. 

Sure enough, the group marched over and the leader pointed at Philomena. "I challenge you to a duel," he said to her. The whole room held its breath, though in Wendelin's case it was to keep from laughing. 

Philomena shrugged. "Sure, whatever," she said. 

Wendelin finally lost her battle with giggles. She patted the Gryffindor on the arm, and giggled a quick "Heart of the cards, man," as she headed to Llewella. 

Wendy leaned against the table, letting out the occasional giggle as Philomena got settled and pulled out her deck. "Oh man, poor Jeff. He's gonna get slaughtered," she said at last. 

"Poor nothing," huffed Pippa. "He's a bully."

"Oh yeah. The biggest bully. And every time anyone calls him on it, he cries Gryffindor and Harry Potter. It's the worst thing," Wendy said, rolling her eyes. "He's okay to us Gryffindors, but I know he's awful to everyone else. Especially Slytherins. This'll be fantastic."

Sure enough, all around the room, the pairs were hurriedly finishing games and meandering casually over the the table with Philomena and Jeff. Jeff was preening under the attention, but Philomena was completely focused on her cards. 

After a couple minutes, it was clear no one else was going to be having any kind of match today, and Llewella abandoned the table to watch the match. Pippa followed not much later, edging through the ever growing crowd. At the center, Jeff no longer looked confident; he looked worried. His Gryffindor friends were bunched up right behind him, whispering as a group. 

"They're helping him, aren't they?" She whispered to Llewella. 

"Oh definitely," Llewella whispered back. 

"Should we stop them?" Pippa asked, unenthusiastic at the thought. 

"Actually, I like it better this way," Llewella whispered. "A whole group of awful bullies gets their butt kicked by the tiniest firstie. Plus, Jeff needs the help," she said, nodding at Philomena. She was still focused on the match, but she had started to look bored as well. 

Word about the match had somehow managed to spread, because Rowan squirmed between the crowd and was standing next to Pippa, grinning widely. She elbowed him away, and he began whispering a constant stream of mocking commentary to Llewella.

By the time Philomena knocked out Jeff’s sixth Pokemon, she wasn’t even bothering to hide how bored she was. Jeff’s group had stopped offering advice after getting snarled at more than a few times. Despite everything, Philomena offered a handshake with a quiet “Good game.”

Jeff scowled at her. “I’m not shaking hands with a cheating Slytherin!” he shouted. “This game is stupid, anyway!” He shoved the table, cards spilling everywhere.

“Sore loser, very Gryffindor,” said Rowan in a loud whisper; Llewella stifled a giggle. Pippa rolled her eyes. “What was he expecting, though, challenging the champion?” A ripple of laughter went through the room.

Jeff looked around at the group that had gathered. He stood a head taller than more than half the group. “Whatever, I don’t even care,” he snarled, and shoved through the group of watchers, leaving his cards behind. Most of his group quickly followed.

Except for one of them, a stocky Gryffindor who looked over at Philomena, quietly picking up her cards. “Um… so how did you do that?” he asked.

Philomena looked up, smiled, and gestured for him to sit down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, huge thanks to the effervescent land shark that is jessicaciao. If not for her, this would probably be rattling around in my brain with the thousand other things instead of being shared with your brain via the internet. I mean, it's still up there, growing and changing and telling more tales but now its also here. In a solid, unchangingish form. Which is nice. 
> 
> Thank you for reading it. That's also nice. I'm done now, as you were.


End file.
